…mind talks…

clock

And when it comes, the butler shall open the huge oak doors. The Lady shall step out in her five-inch gold heels, and glide across the path to the Mercedes Benz waiting at the other end, her beautiful dark red hair brushing against the wind, and the satin ruffles of her long black dress sweeping lightly along. The chauffeur shall step out and open the car doors for her, and usher her in.

And then the Lady shall go on a journey deep into the unknown, but she shall not be worried, for she knows she is in safe hands.

Not every Tom, Dick, and Harry is capable of comprehending my writings; it takes one of considerable wisdom, I suppose.

Does Time wait for you, or do you wait for time, I wonder? (Photo credits to Ekamil Razali)

Yes, I am aware time is ticking by. The minute hands are sweeping away by the day, and at each forward move rocks of obstacles are hurled my way. Yet it is only the code by which this intangible thing called time works.

The effort spent – time itself, and energy as well – it shall not go to waste. When I wrote The Blitzkreig, I meant it. When I wrote all the other posts after that, I meant them too. Whilst I have been busy sharpening my swords of authenticity, I have been through nightmares too, where pots kept clanking and alarms kept ringing perpetuously. Probably I was faced with a paradigm shift, but no, not that I deny it, however it absolutely is not so! It has been like this until someone came over and shook me tlll he woke me from my bad dreams. Just saying.

Tragedy befell the poor, pretty mind, and it purged out a loud: “Oh!” Nonetheless, the neurons still decided to head on to the party instead together with the protons and the electrons. Together, they downed high doses of whisky, zapping all the way up and down through the cranium, and left with empty bottles lying on the dance floor.

And emerged as one from the doors more silent, solemn, and whatever else, with their minds readied for mental combat. The thing is that every time after something bad occurs, a bigger, brighter thing is churned out. At least, that is the general idea most people think happen.